The Reason Why
by Sage of Angst
Summary: The muddled thoughts running through the troubled mind of a certain Satan as she contemplates the recent untimely passing of someone very dear to her...Angst, but of course


_Author's Notes:_ Well, I'm back. Yeah, yeah…I can hear you all already… "What's _this_? Where's our next chapter for _It's a Start_?!" Well, I'm working on it! And I wanted to play a little outside of that line, so I popped this out today. Just a one shot, nothing fancy really. Except angst—a lot of angst. But then (aside from "Dumb Blonde") what else have you come to expect from me? 

**What I Don't Own**

1) "Ever Free" by Ayumi Hamasaki; beautiful, short, sad song, used later on in the ficlet.

2) The whole first part will be based off of a quote I found online—sort of like an expanded version, but I'm not sure who to attribute it to. I'll include a link to it at the end to make this disclaimer almost official-like.

3) DBZ

Also, this might be considered AU-ish, but you also might be able to place it at a certain point in the anime. Can anyone guess where it would best fit? Cookie if you can! Now, on with the depression!

_The Reason Why_

I've been thinking about you for a while now—a very long while—yet still you confuse me. All you have to do is cast a glance my way, and I'm out, transformed into a pillar of conflicting emotions. You walk up and all these feelings begin a war with themselves, each vying for my attentions. I swear, you turn me this way and that with your strange signals, and I don't know what to do.

Or, I _didn't_ know what to do. Up until now, I was still lost. _Still_. But, like I said, I've though about this for a long time, and I finally reached a decision, I know how I feel. About you.

I hate you.

I _hate_ you. Truly, deeply, fiercely hate you. It isn't just discomfort, nor is it mere dislike. It's not even as benign an emotion as disgust. It is hatred; it is all I have left for you. And it hurts.

It burns inside of me, a fire of deep, dark feelings, straining to break free from this pitiful human shell, to devour you and me. I can feel it searing though my veins, spreading like some alien infection through my limbs, from my soul out to my extremities. And it still hurts, even when I acknowledge it…this _hatred_.

I hate your mind, with its flawed ways of thinking. Your stupidity, your foolishness, your naïveté, your innocence. Your pretentious innocence. I hate how your heart and mind beat as one, and I hate your disgustingly altruistic nature—the taste it leaves behind in my mouth makes me gag, my stomach turns, and I fight the urge to vomit all this hatred onto your snow-white soul. How _dare_ you be brave…The way you feel you have to help _everyone_…to save everyone…It frustrates me to no end!

I hate your smile, that incomprehensible smile of yours. I've never seen it—not once—leave your face, always gracing your altogether too-gentle features. And I can't stand it—I can't _under_stand it.

Answer me! I have to know; I can't hate you without reason…I could _never_ hate you without reason. Why—_how_? How can you still support that smile, after all you've been through? No matter how you feel on the inside—no matter what silent demons you're battling in there, outside is always that _smile_, for all the world to see.

Why won't you _frown_? Does my pain give you that much pleasure?

And, I just hate it _all_. I hate everything you do, everyone you care for, everything you are—I hate it all. I just _do_.

But…

Most of all, above anything else…I hate you for dying. And I hate you for making me cry.

I hate you.

I love you.

I miss you.

_You broke your promise, Gohan_…

*****

[_It was a bright day. On your peaceful face_

_I laid a chain of white flowers._

_Beautiful things are sometimes sad things._

_I sense the farewell that has been long coming._]

She was still out there, they observed silently from afar. Still standing atop that knoll, still staring up at the cloudless sky, hands hanging limp and dead at her sides. Still there, just as she'd been for the past hour. How long, they wondered, would she stand out there? None among them knew for sure—she certainly wouldn't cope as _they'd _learned to cope—though some suspected she'd simply wait out there, looking for him, until he came back. She would, of course, waste away before anything like him returning happened.

Yet still she stood, unfazed by either their comments or the elements. Their whispers reached her ears, she didn't bat an eye. The sun blazed down furiously, she didn't flinch. The wind blew in gusts, ruffling her thin skirt and short cropped hair, but aside from this she moved not an inch. She stood as a stone statue, gazing up into the sky.

At one moment they thought she might be abandoning her post to come back and mourn properly with them, but no. She merely knelt in her spot and gathered up a bouquet of small, delicate white flowers, methodically weaving them into a wreath. For him, they all supposed. It was certainly a nice wreath, pleasing to the eye, but laced with each flower was a single tear she'd shed, flooded with memory and emotion of times past. She cried again for him, and cursed.

[_I break out of the black line and look upwards,_

_thinking__ of the sky I once saw._]

They all looked on, with pseudo-worry and pity as the flower chain dropped from her trembling grasp; obviously she lacked the strength and will to properly focus on the simple task of weaving for him. She wiped an angry hand over her bloodshot eyes, slinging away a thick shower of tears, and they sighed knowingly. She was still there, still mourning him.

She raised her gaze again to the empty sky, eyes scanning the empty horizon for the familiar figure…he should be coming any minute now, he should be coming…She frowned as her vision blurred again, all detail now reduced to multihued blobs of color by the tears which stung her eyes, clinging furiously to the watery blue orbs. They all turned away from her for now—she would still be there later. 

[_How far away will you go?_

_Is it so far that you can never come back?_]

Any minute now, she was sure, he'd come soaring back, winging his way home, back to them, back to her, and he'd be smiling as if nothing had happened. After all, nothing was _supposed_ to happen—to either of them. He wouldn't let her go, nor she him. And yet still she'd feared for him—that one day she would awake, and he would just be _gone_. She'd be alone until the end of her days, however short or long she made them. Until he'd said…oh, what were his words? For his words were so important, so final, how _could_ she forget them? She closed her eyes, remembering his soft voice, and let it ring inside her head.

_"I promise you…this I solemnly swear: I will never leave you. Never."_ Sealed with a kiss…

He'd said…he'd said he would never leave her! So that must mean that he _is_ coming back! He _is_…he promised…

She frowned…soon she wouldn't be able to remember his promise, already his voice grew faint, and she shed a tear for lost memories.

But that was the problem with promises. So easily made, so frail, so fragile, like life…So easily broken, She hadn't taken very good care of his promise, and it fractured into a million million tiny shards. She stared down, face blank, at the tiny shattered bits of his promise at her feet, and shifted one around with the toe of her shoe. It blurred before her tired eyes into a little white flower. For that was what it was. A wreath. For him, as they had supposed.

"Come…come back…" her mouth whispered with quiet desperation. "…come back…you promised me…you promised…" She was utterly defeated.

They looked out the window again, checking up on her. She was still there, still there. They halfway resented her now—why would she not join them? _They_ had lost him too…Did she really think waiting around out there would bring him back? Stupid girl…

But he might come; she unconsciously thrust her hopes upon them. Mightn't he? He wasn't _really_ gone, was he? No…he couldn't be. He was him, he was simply…_him_. And he couldn't be gone, because he'd promised her he'd never leave, and she trust him wholly.

Perhaps, though, that was naïveté on her part.

Her vision blurred in and out of focus, and she forced her gaze upward again. Must keep focused on the sky…he'll be here any minute now! But there was nothing—not even the tiniest wisp of cloud upon which she could found the hope that he might merely be hiding behind it, waiting to surprise them all. No, today the sky was empty. Empty and blue…like those eyes of his. Hauntingly seductive as he smirked at this opponent in a fight (she'd been on the receiving end of that smirk more than once), and yet at times, she found them warmly comforting, perhaps because with those eyes came such strength and stability. He could protect her…he _would_ protect her, always. 

But, she had to admit—she preferred the deep mysteries of his normal coal-black orbs, shining with perpetual mirth and silent laughter. They were _his_ eyes…oh, what she wouldn't give, what price she wouldn't pay to see even his _eyes_ just once more…

[_I want to see you, but I can't; at least you could tell me._

_I won't forget any of the final tears you gave me._]

_'When?__ When?' _she asked the great expanse of sky laid out before her, pleading with it for one more day, hour, even a mere moment with him—she would gladly forfeit her own life for the chance to feel the warmth of his palm upon her cheek.

Her life…her_ life_…was it worth anything now? Even the effort put forth to contemplate its value? Pondering this, she concluded bitterly, _'Perhaps not,'_ but…_they_ wouldn't let her leave. Selfish fools, sitting there watching her through that window, jealous. They would fight to keep her here with them—why should _she_ be allowed to be with him wile the simply sat back and bemoaned their wretched fates?

Ah well…they couldn't hover over her _all_ the time, now could they? She would eventually find herself alone…_truly_ alone, without him…Maybe, when an opportunity presented itself, she'd just…

Another tear. A dry laugh.

Just wonderful. This tear hadn't come from sorrow over him, but from fear and trepidation on her part, hesitation about what she'd just been contemplating doing.

She was _scared_. Scared to die, scared to live.

But scared of what more? Ah, _that_ would be the defining factor in which road she would take. What did she fear more? Death or life? How ironic. She couldn't live without him, and yet she feared, with just as much passion, dying _with_ him. Was there no peace to be had for her?!

Oh yes, she wanted to live—to live! But not…not like _this._ For this was certainly no life. She wanted to live with him, to share stolen glances in the school corridors, to share volumes of knowledge through his kiss, to be caught up in a whirlwind romance…

And yes, she admitted, to live happily ever after. This was what she wanted. And yet, it could not be…

The sky…he should be coming any moment now. He'd promised.

Today was the day. He'd said it would be today. That he would say something…today…

But, that was before, long before. Before he'd broken his promise, before it had shattered before her very eyes. Before she had to watch him…Oh, if only she could hold him…if he could hold her…

Instead, he'd given her something new: tears. She hadn't been given tears in so long, and she now remembered why she'd feared for him…why she'd made him promise. It was all to avoid the tears. Now, they were the only memory of him she had left to hold onto. But she didn't want them, this wasn't how she wanted to remember him.

She looked down at the flower chain and walked down from the knoll to them, crushing a number of the dainty white petals underfoot as she abandoned her post.

He was supposed to be here by now—today was when he'd said he'd tell her. 

He should be coming any minute now…but, please, don't take me away, don't make me leave…stay here. Don't go back—I want…I want to live!…Please, kill me if you love me…please, spare me if you love me…please, be with me…if you love me…

Maybe tomorrow.

Was she _still_ there? they wondered. No—she was done mourning, it seemed. Finally. The would need to keep a close watch on her, though, lest she try anything rash. That girl! She wasn't coping with his death very well, seemed to be keeping her emotions all bottled up inside.

If they hadn't seen her cry, they probably would've thought she'd hated him.

—_fin_—

­_Post-Thingy Notes_: Yeah, so, I'm glad I got that out of my system. *sighs* I love angst…can you tell? Anyway, now that you've sat through that little gem, please don't fight the urge to review! I've wanted to write this for a while, and it was at first two separate parts, and indicated by the asterisks. But I found a way to let them flow together nicely, and this is the result. 

Ann, consider this payback—and I've still got more where that came from, courtesy of _It's a Start_, Chapter 13…MWAHAHAHAAA!

Oh yeah, here's the link for the quote I used to for the first half around:

Questions? Comments? Snide remarks? Put 'em in your review, or e-mail me personally—_if you dare._


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